Chapter 32: Mother’s Amniotic Fluid

Tan Xueci’s cheeks were cupped by the evil spirit, squeezing a small mound of soft flesh and forcing a series of muffled, incoherent hums from his throat.

The other’s icy lips had initially only pressed against his briefly. Tan Xueci thought it was over, but He Xunye held his face and suddenly leaned in to kiss him again.

The ghost’s body temperature was so cold that it felt like a frostbite burn, as if a dark tongue of fire were licking upward along his entire body.

Tan Xueci felt that He Xunye’s hands were very hot. His eyelashes fluttered, and a flush began to bloom across his snow-white cheeks.

“So soft,” He Xunye murmured against his lips, letting out a low sigh as he called out, “Baby.”

Tan Xueci felt the blood rushing to his head. His face was burning up; he pushed the evil spirit away, but immediately realized something was wrong. They were already married. Even if they weren’t, they were “dating.” It was reasonable for He Xunye to want to kiss him.

He had no reason to refuse.

“Do you think things aren’t good right now?” He Xunye wasn’t angry. The corners of his mouth still held a smile, always appearing good-tempered toward him, yet his tone was slightly chilled. “Or do you want to leave me?”

Tan Xueci was his wife. They had bowed to Heaven and Earth. From the night of their wedding, Tan Xueci belonged to him.

Whether he possessed human emotions didn’t matter, but before his soul dissipated, he would keep Tan Xueci as his own.

“No.” At He Xunye’s question, a surge of panic rose in Tan Xueci’s heart. His pale little face was strained, and the rims of his eyes turned slightly red.

He reached out, wanting to hug He Xunye, but the rest of the crew was only a dozen meters away. If they turned around and saw him hugging thin air, he didn’t dare move. He just looked at He Xunye expectantly and whispered, “Hubby, I don’t want to leave you.”

He Xunye’s cool voice made his heart tighten.

Actually, there was no blame in He Xunye’s tone. When it came to blame or even insults, Tan Xueci should have been used to it; he had heard more reproaches in his life than normal conversation. But He Xunye was usually so gentle with him.

He Xunye had never been mean to him, nor did he get angry. He only held him and called him “Xiao Xue” or “Baby.”

It seemed that no matter what he said or did, he didn’t have to fear He Xunye’s disapproval. Just like tonight’s boundless black night—to others, it was blood and terror, but to him, it was an omnipresent protection, a gentle night he could step into without fear.

Tan Xueci gave a small sniff, and tears began to stream down his face. This time, he wasn’t just “dropping small pearls”; he was truly crying.

The evil spirit was rare in its daze, seemingly not quite understanding his wife’s sudden tears.

Tan Xueci wiped his eyes. Meng Zhi, walking at the very back, saw him and called out hesitantly in a small voice, “Teacher Tan.”

Tan Xueci hurriedly rubbed his face, looking like a soggy little kitten. He then grabbed a few of He Xunye’s fingers and gave them a shake, signaling that he would find him later, before turning to run toward Meng Zhi.

He ran a bit too fast to notice the dark look in the evil spirit’s eyes or the way the corners of its mouth gradually sank.

“Teacher Tan,” Meng Zhi was also wiping her tears, her eyes red as she whispered, “You must have been terrified too.”

Tan Xueci nodded.

The ghost infant on Meng Zhi’s back had woken up, but it didn’t seem to want to bite. It just lay there submissively. Tan Xueci cautiously glanced at Meng Zhi’s feet; she had a shadow.

She shouldn’t be a ghost.

But he couldn’t rule out the possibility that some ghosts simply had shadows.

Meng Zhi, Gardenia. Tan Xueci remembered the little flower drawn on the page numbers of that girl’s notebook.

He didn’t want Meng Zhi to be a ghost. She had always been kind to him, initiating conversation and even trying to invite him to dinner back when Zhai Fang was still around.

Aside from He Xunye, he rarely met anyone who was nice to him right from the start like Meng Zhi.

What happened to He Biansheng’s body wasn’t something a human could do. After the police finished their investigation, they let the crew return to the hotel. The assistant director led the group toward the parking lot.

Recalling tonight’s events and hearing the principal talk about the frequent hauntings, everyone was terrified. The actors didn’t even dare sit in their own private vans.

The stagehands brought over several of the crew’s minibuses. Seven or eight people crammed into one vehicle to leave together.

Just as the assistant director got in, he received a call from the company. He worked for the same company as He Biansheng and had been his assistant director for three years. While he occasionally directed short dramas, he lacked He Biansheng’s fame in the industry.

He had thought the company was calling to tell them to shut down and disband, but to his surprise, they wanted him to take over as the lead director and finish the film in He Biansheng’s place.

“Wait…” The assistant director panicked instantly. Just as he was about to ask why, the board director on the other end hung up with a click.

Assistant Director: “…”

No, we’re still filming after all this? Who exactly is behind this project? Do we have to wait until we’ve all died one by one?

The actors in the car looked at each other, their faces quite grim.

With so many incidents and a clear “force majeure,” they technically had grounds to terminate their contracts and stop filming without paying penalties.

But Wen Yaochuan seemed completely unafraid and had no intention of leaving.

The other actors, aside from Tan Xueci and Meng Zhi, were mostly from the same company as the director. If the boss said to keep filming, wouldn’t quitting be a way to offend the higher-ups?

Tan Xueci had no plans to leave. He had no other work, and if he didn’t finish this film, he wouldn’t get the rest of his pay. Although he had the card his husband gave him, his husband had spent thousands just on one dinner. Tan Xueci couldn’t help but worry.

If his husband kept spending like that, he might end up broke. He still needed to earn some money himself.

Besides, according to Dr. Xie, he had a psychological disorder, constant hallucinations, and nightmares—seeing ghosts was just part of his condition.

According to the Taoist priest his father had once hired, he was possessed by evil spirits, and his Yin energy was so thick it surpassed that of many vengeful ghosts.

If it were normal Yin energy, it could be used to shield his eyes so he at least wouldn’t see spirits, but his energy was so heavy that it was impossible to resolve in this life. He might as well adapt early.

Tan Xueci had initially thought the priest was talking nonsense to scam them for money, but now he felt there was some truth to it.

During the days he had been “dating” He Xunye, he hadn’t seen a single ghost. Then, catching sight of the ghost infant on Meng Zhi’s back had made his heart race faster than ever before.

Even if that little ghost wasn’t particularly terrifying.

Escaping was only temporary. Unless all the ghosts in the world were eliminated, he might as well get used to seeing a few every day.

They started to look almost familiar.

In the end, except for a few extras who fled in the night, most people stayed.

The school was temporarily cordoned off. Fortunately, they had finished most of their scenes there; the rest were mostly in alleys or the characters’ homes.

They could come back for the finale once the school was reopened.

Tan Xueci shared a car with the assistant director and the leads. The stagehand and a few supporting actors were also there, but the car wasn’t full. He sat in the last row, and He Xunye sat next to him, holding his hand.

Meng Zhi was still very pale after getting on. Thinking of the “white meat” she had eaten made her stomach churn, and she felt like vomiting.

Tan Xueci handed her some tissues. She whispered a thanks, and Wen Yaochuan sat nearby asking if she needed medicine while holding her water bottle.

Wen Yaochuan’s obsidian earring glinted in the dim cabin. His expression was unruly yet steady. He turned and asked, “Xiao Ci, do you need any medicine?”

“I’m fine,” Tan Xueci shook his head. “Thank you.”

No one spoke much. Aside from Meng Zhi’s low sobbing and the assistant director’s sighs, everyone was heavy-hearted.

Only the evil spirit held his wife’s hand, kneading it in his palm with a smile on his lips.

The stagehand was on Tan Xueci’s left, so he scooted closer to He Xunye, squeezing against him.

He Xunye tilted his head. Because of his height, it was hard to lean on Tan Xueci’s shoulder, so he rested his head on top of Tan Xueci’s. Several stray black hairs on Tan Xueci’s head were flattened down.

Tan Xueci hugged He Xunye’s arm and looked up at him. He Xunye had already closed his eyes as if sleeping. The sharp bridge of the spirit’s nose was coated in a cold light in the dim car. His eyelashes were lowered as he submissively held Tan Xueci’s hand and leaned against him. At this moment, he looked very much like a human.

They looked like a young couple returning home late.

Tan Xueci stared at He Xunye’s incredibly long eyelashes for a while, then dimmed his phone screen and started scrolling.

He saw that Tan Yanning had posted an update on his friend circle. The picture showed a hospital IV bottle and bandages on his head—shot very artistically, showing only a pair of haggard eyes. Tan Xueci blinked in surprise.

Tan Yanning said he had been in a car accident and was hospitalized with a head injury, needing several stitches and suffering a concussion. He had been in the hospital for a week and was only now feeling better. His tone in the post was very gentle and humble as he apologized for not being able to reply to everyone’s messages.

It was a bit performative.

The white glow of the screen illuminated Tan Xueci’s somber little face. When he was sick before, Brother Lu had taught him to take photos like that and apologize; he said many fans would feel bad for him.

After scrolling for a bit, Tan Xueci suddenly felt a gaze. He looked up to find that He Xunye had opened his eyes at some point and was looking at the phone with him.

He Xunye’s eyelashes were lowered, his skin looked pale and sickly in the cabin, and his lips were an even deeper shade of crimson.

Tan Xueci’s heart gave a sudden thud.

His husband… really didn’t look human.

Even if he was dreaming, He Xunye looked… too much like a ghost. He looked even more like a ghost than the actual ghosts he had encountered.

Everyone on the bus was depressed, and Tan Xueci’s face was also drooping unhappily. The corners of the evil spirit’s mouth gradually fell as well.

It seemed that when Tan Xueci was dejected—like a flattened little dough ball—it made the spirit unhappy as well, though it couldn’t explain the source of this feeling.

It truly enjoyed the thirty-plus days spent with Tan Xueci; it was much more interesting than being alive. It hadn’t expected to meet someone like him after death.

But it preferred Tan Xueci wearing the silk robes it bought, sitting in its lap playing games, occasionally looking up to snuggle against it and maybe even smiling. It didn’t like him like this.

“Why is Xiao Xue unhappy?” He Xunye’s voice rang out, cold and ghostly.

It thought Tan Xueci was unhappy because he saw Tan Yanning’s post. Was it because Tan Yanning hadn’t died?

But it felt that Tan Xueci didn’t just hate that person; Tan Xueci seemed to have a lot of feelings regarding that family. It didn’t like seeing Tan Xueci cry, so it had stayed its hand.

Or perhaps it should just kill Tan Yanning now.

Tan Xueci was startled by He Xunye’s exceptionally dark, thick gaze. That pitch-blackness suddenly appearing in the car was truly frightening. He blinked, and fearing being overheard by the others, he whispered very softly, “I’m not. Hubby, I’m just a little hungry.”

He hadn’t eaten for five or six hours.

The evil spirit’s nose almost touched his. Tan Xueci feared he would look ugly if his eyes went cross-eyed, so he tried to dodge, but his cheek was pinched by icy fingers and forced back.

Fortunately, He Xunye moved a bit further away.

The stagehand next to them had just fallen asleep. Hearing a noise from Tan Xueci’s side, he opened his eyes groggily and asked, “Teacher Tan?”

“Mmm…” Tan Xueci’s cheek was pinched into a little bun. He made a muffled sound and said, “It’s nothing.”

The stagehand thought his voice sounded strange, but he couldn’t tell if it was because the car was too dark or something else. He rubbed his eyes hard, unable to see anything clearly, and eventually drifted back to sleep.

He Xunye’s dark eyes stared at Tan Xueci. Seeing nothing wrong on his face, it finally let go slowly and said, “When we get to the hotel, I’ll go buy you food.”

Tan Xueci rubbed his pinched cheek and nodded obediently.

Not only was the school wrong, but the hotel was too. The assistant director didn’t dare stay there anymore and planned to move the actors elsewhere, but they couldn’t leave tonight—tomorrow at the earliest.

Besides, this production was fraught with trouble; it was better to finish quickly.

“Everyone,” the assistant director sighed. “I imagine no one can sleep tonight. Why don’t we go over the remaining scenes and try to concentrate on finishing them in the next few days?”

There weren’t many episodes left anyway. If they worked hard, they could wrap up in ten days or two weeks.

No one disagreed. Having witnessed such a traumatic scene, it was said that one shouldn’t sleep immediately, lest they develop psychological trauma. Being alone was scary anyway; it was better to stay together in one room for the night.

“I ordered some late-night snacks for everyone,” Wen Yaochuan raised his hand. “They should be here soon. Everyone’s worked hard.”

Wen Yaochuan was always meticulous. Even when the crew was in a panic, seeing him made them feel at ease.

“Thank you, Teacher Wen,” the assistant director said with a bitter smile.

Tan Xueci looked at He Xunye hesitantly. He felt like he wouldn’t be able to go back to his room tonight. Although no one could see his husband and he could let He Xunye follow along, he would be busy rehearsing all night and didn’t want He Xunye to just stand there waiting.

Tan Xueci secretly squeezed He Xunye’s hand and whispered, “Hubby, why don’t you go back to the room and wait for me first?”

He Xunye was silent for a few minutes before finally saying, “Okay.”

Tan Xueci followed the other actors to the assistant director’s room. Before taking the elevator, he couldn’t help but look back. He found that He Xunye hadn’t gone back to the room yet; that tall, lean figure was still standing by the door, hauntingly watching his back.

After killing those few people, the evil spirit’s resentment seemed even heavier. The blood-red in its eyes was nearly overflowing. From a distance, those phoenix eyes looked blackish-red, appearing almost crimson under the hallway lights.

The assistant director and the screenwriter spent the night studying the script. They wanted to cut and edit to finish quickly, but Wen Yaochuan was in the cast; he wouldn’t accept a botched ending. They could only find ways to rearrange the shooting order to finish as fast as possible.

While they worked on the script, the actors rehearsed their scenes, aiming to get everything in one take when filming started.

After a whole night of labor, everyone was exhausted. Wen Yaochuan’s assistant brought up the snacks and distributed them one by one. When he got to Tan Xueci, Tan Xueci had just finished a scene and was dozing off.

In his daze, he smelled a very strong scent of perfume. He was startled when he looked up, but he was too tired to see clearly. He only felt the person’s makeup was heavy and their face was painted very white.

“Eat,” the person said airily.

After Tan Xueci opened the package, he didn’t know if he actually ate. He was so tired he fell asleep. He didn’t know how long he slept, but when he woke up, he found himself sitting on a toilet in a restroom stall.

The night breeze blew in through the barred window. Tan Xueci felt a chill all over and suddenly snapped awake.

A restroom stall?

He hadn’t forgotten the ghost story the principal had just told. He hurriedly stood up. Fortunately, he hadn’t taken off his pants; he was sitting with them on. There was no blood or anything else in the stall.

He held his breath, his fingers trembling slightly as he pushed the door open. Luckily, there was nothing outside.

His heart was racing. He realized he was back at that school. He left the restroom and walked along the corridor. The pitch-black hallway was empty—not even the ghost students from before were there.

He quickened his pace, almost running. Just as he reached the entrance of the teaching building, he suddenly heard footsteps coming from the stairs nearby.

He couldn’t help but turn his head, meeting the deathly pale, lifeless face of a girl. She had only one leg and was hopping down the stairs, one step at a time.

She even smiled and greeted him, her ghostly eyes watching him as she asked, “Why are you running?”

Tan Xueci: “…”

Tan Xueci turned pale with fright and ran for his life.

However, leaving the teaching building didn’t lead him to the playground. Instead, he entered another space that looked like an abandoned factory.

The cavernous factory was filled with many operation rooms. Tan Xueci even heard the cold, giggling laughter of children.

Just as he was hesitating which way to run, several children with sickly green skin crawled out of the dark corridor. They all crawled very fast. Tears almost welled in his eyes, but as he turned, he crashed into a familiar, icy embrace.

“Hu… Hubby?” Tan Xueci immediately buried himself in He Xunye’s arms.

The corners of the evil spirit’s mouth, which had been downcast all night, finally curled up again. He held him tight and murmured, “Why is Xiao Xue running around again?”

“Hubby,” Tan Xueci’s voice trembled as he shook in He Xunye’s arms. “What is this place?”

A foul stench permeated the factory. He Xunye said lightly, “I don’t know either. Maybe it’s a place where they process meat lingzhi.”

Smelling the scent, Tan Xueci suddenly remembered the staff member who had delivered the food. Their perfume was so strong, as if hiding something—probably the smell of a corpse. In his daze, he thought he had seen blue livor mortis under their foundation.

Tan Xueci looked up in a panic. He couldn’t tell what was a dream and what was real anymore.

Now that He Xunye was here, he wasn’t as afraid of the crawling ghost infants. He even had the mind to look at them closely.

These ghost infants were all dead; as ghosts, they should be in a soul state. But one little ghost was struggling to crawl into a nearby jar of formalin, seemingly treating the murky liquid inside as its mother’s amniotic fluid.

He Xunye saw Tan Xueci’s face flicker between confusion and gravity, looking quite unhappy.

A crimson glow surged in the evil spirit’s eyes. It felt irritated. It didn’t like Tan Xueci like this, but it didn’t know how to make him happy.

Tan Xueci kept staring at the ghost infants crawling on the floor. He Xunye looked down too, then reached out and picked up the ghost infant that was trying to crawl into the formalin jar.

The evil spirit curled its lips, dangling the scrawny ghost infant as it spoke gently to its wife: “Baby, this can be our child. Didn’t you want a child?”

“…” Tan Xueci froze. The little ghost in He Xunye’s hand was baring its teeth, trying to bite him, but it did look a bit more delicate than the other ghost infants.

Wait, wait, wait.

“No… that’s not right,” Tan Xueci never thought he’d see the day he’d be explaining biology to someone. He explained dryly to He Xunye, “It only counts as one’s own child if it comes out of a belly.”

The evil spirit lowered its head in thought. Just as Tan Xueci thought he didn’t understand and was about to explain further, the spirit suddenly took the child and stuffed it directly into its own abdominal cavity. Thick, crimson blood immediately gushed out, soaking the black suit jacket.

Tan Xueci was stunned.

The evil spirit smiled as it pulled its hand and the ghost infant back out. Black-red blood flowed down its pale fingers. Its face looked even paler than before, but its eyes still held a gentle, smiling gaze as it handed the ghost infant to Tan Xueci.

The ghost infant was covered in blood, its eyes wide as it forgot to cry.

The crimson in the evil spirit’s eyes overflowed. It said with a voice full of joy: “Baby, our child is born.”